The Eyes of Slytherin
by Dead Paw
Summary: Harry James Potter was not the only one with Avada Kedavra eyes. The Eyes of Death. The Eyes of Slytherin. A Dark Potter fic, but not in the way you expect.
1. Chapter 1

**The Eyes of Slytherin.**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything except the plot. So don't sue me. All Harry Potter™ characters and settings are the sole intellectual property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros. and various others who all aren't connected to me in any way. No money is being made with this fan fiction and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Summary:** Harry James Potter was not the only one with Avada Kedavra eyes. The Eyes of Death. The Eyes of Slytherin. A Dark Potter fic, but not in the way you expect.

-

Why everything that's supposed to bad make me feel so good?

Everything they told me not to is exactly what I would

Man I tried to stop man I tried the best I could

But, You make me smile

**Kanye West - Addiction**

-

**Prologue.**

He sighed. He hated Auror duty. And that combined with the work he did for Dumbledore and the Order was strenuous to say the least. But it was worth it. Just to see her smile. And adding to that, he was going to be a father soon! A Dad. He would have a child.

It's a beautiful thing, birth. A miracle. A phenomenon if you thought about it. Out of all the millions of billions of planets and stars and galaxies and universes there are, and you thought about how amazingly unlikely it is for you to be born is. It just boggles the mind.

'_But that's muggle stuff._' He thought. That made him smile. But now was not the time to be thinking about muggles. He needed to hand this paper work in.

"Potter? Potter? Where the hell are you Potter? We've caught him! We've caught Karkaroff!" Shouted Mad Eye Moody as he stumped down the hall, to his office. As he entered the small room where he shared his desk with his best friend.

'_Moody looks different somehow_,' he thought and then out loud he said, "What happened to your nose?"

Moody's magical eye span round and focused on his nose. "Oh," he said. "The bastard hit it with a spell before we caught him. Anyway, hurry the fuck up, Potter. We're not waiting all day for you."

He looked at the aging wizard curiously. "Why do you need me? I've got a ton of paperwork to do…"

Moody sighed. "Come on Potter, we need a few more witnesses."

Moody grabbed him by the collar of his robes and brought him to one of the maximum security holding rooms. Once they arrived, Potter immediately recognised three other people already there; Junior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, Senior Auror Amelia Bones and Sirius Black.

-

**Chapter One**: Addictions.

James watched the scene around him. People were dieing everywhere. On both sides. The Ministry had granted Aurors permission to use Unforgivables and they _were_ using them. It was sick to think that ordinary wizards and witches could get to violent and hateful, as they had to when using an Unforgivable. And that's why they were called that – they were unforgivable.

But, according to the Ministry, right now, the End justifies the Means, because this could be it. The final battle. If only Voldemort showed. If he showed, then it could mean the end of the war. But everyone knew he wouldn't.

Voldemort would show when he thought the time was right.

But right now was a war. And his friends and colleagues needed him.

And that's when he saw one. A lone Death Eater. And the fucker was shooting killing curses randomly into fights. He was probably killing his own men as well, just to stay alive! James aimed his wand in the path of the Death Eater and shot his first Killing Curse.

A surge of power coursed through his veins as the sickly green spell shot through the air and hit the man in the chest, killing him instantly - and he liked it. Something flickered in the corner of his vision and James rolled out of the way as someone else's killing curse shot over his head. He smirked. His Quidditch reflexes came in handy. He knew it was a good idea, no matter how dangerous Lily said it could be.

James shot his own Unforgivable at the accused Death Eater, which hit him in the back. Again, James smirked. But this time, if anyone were to look into his eyes, they would have seen his normally warm, chocolate brown eyes turn an unusual shade of black, so dark, that it was impossible to tell where the pupil began and where the iris ended. Those were eyes of a killer.

Scouting round for another target, the young Auror saw Sirius being hit with the Cruciatus Curse by none other than Bellatrix Lestrange. James growled. He hated that woman with a passion. She killed and tortured mercilessly, she insulted him and his wife and even tried to kill his unborn child. And now she shot Sirius with _that_ curse! She was Sirius's _cousin_! And yet she strikes him with the fucking torture curse! That bitch would pay.

Taking aim directly at her heart, he screamed 'Crucio,' wanting to make her suffer for everything she had done. The crackling, electric blue curse shot out of his wand and hit her directly where he intended.

The bitch fell to the floor, writhing in pain as James held the spell on, forcing as much hate and anger into the curse as he could. Bellatrix screamed. He kept it on until he could see the blood trickling down her mouth before he let go of the curse.

"How do you like it, Bella?" He shouted in her ear as he lifted her off the ground with the first year spell of 'Wingardium Leviosa.' "How do you like the feel of your own curse? It's not nice is it? _Crucio_!"

The curse hit her a second time and she fell to the ground once more. James smirked. It felt good. It was _real _power - and he had a taste for more.

Even though he knew the fight still raged, he couldn't resist _playing_ with Bella. He cast the Cruciatus curse on her again, and again, and again, until finally her voice broke and more blood oozed from her mouth. James bent low to her and licked the blood from her cheek before whispering, "Have fun?"

He stalked off into the battle, sending more Killing curses at Death Eaters, every one hitting its intended target. If he had stayed a bit longer, he would have seen the woman lying on the floor take a pendant from inside her robes and say one word, "Master," Before disappearing from the front lines of this intense conflict.

-

He felt sick. Physically sick. He hadn't known what came over him. It was if some unknown force inside of him took its chance and adopted control. But the thing that was making him sick was the fact that he enjoyed it. Not the killing. Not the torturing. He _liked_ those parts. But that was the thing – he hated himself for liking it.

Right now, he needed to busy himself.

"James!" came a voice. '_Just in time._' He though as he looked for whom had called him. Sirius. "James! Lily needs you. St Mungo's just firecalled, she's gone into labour!"

"Shit!" James jumped out from his chair in the Auror Dep. and ran to the nearest Floo networked fireplace. He threw in a handful of Floo power, stepped in and yelled, "St Mungo's!"

He immediately disappeared from the Ministry into a cloud of emerald smoke. Although James had got used to travelling by Floo, this time was different. Once again, he felt the dizzying effect and motion sickness from whizzing at top speeds past all the Floo connected fireplaces in Britain before appearing at St Mungo's. James stepped out of the fireplace and ran up to the front desk, asking for the maternal ward.

James immediately sprinted to the stairs and bolted all the way up to the eighth floor, not stopping for breath. He counted along until he reached the correct room, Room 14… Room 17… Room 21… and finally, Room 24. He opened the door and stepped in.

After almost fourteen hours of the words, "Breath," and "Push," a beautiful baby boy was born at exactly Eleven Fifty-nine PM.

"Congratulations! You have a healthy baby boy." The Healer waved her wand over the child; vanishing the blood from him and drying him, before handing the baby to James, who began crying with joy.

"I can't believe it, Lils, we've got a son. I've got a son!" James whispered, tears running down his face as the sleeping form of his son wiggled in his arms. He passed the baby to his wife and sat down on the edge of the bed, kissing her over and over again, softly saying in her ear, "We're a family."

-

Dumbledore turned up the next day, a sad expression on his face. He sat down on the other side of Lily, who was fast asleep, and turned to James.

"I'm afraid, I have some bad, but a bit of good, as well," Dumbledore began. "But, I believe we must wait for Lily to wake. Sherbet Lemon."

James shook his head, causing baby Harry to make a gurgling noise from his position in James arms, alerting Dumbledore to his presence. "Ah, this must be young Harry? I would offer him one as well, but I am guessing his is a bit too young for such sweet things."

James smiled and turned to Lily as she began to wake.

"Now we are all conscious, I have to tell you this piece of news. Yesterday, when I was interviewing for the new Potions and Divination professors, one of the applicants, a Sybil Trelawney, a descendant of Cassandra Trelawney, said something concerning young Harry…"

-

Ok, that was the first chapter done! How do you like it?


	2. Chapter 2

**The Eyes of Slytherin.**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything except the plot. So don't sue me. All Harry Potter™ characters and settings are the sole intellectual property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros. and various others who all aren't connected to me in any way. No money is being made with this fan fiction and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Summary:** Harry James Potter was not the only one with Avada Kedavra eyes. The Eyes of Death. The Eyes of Slytherin. A Dark Potter fic, but not in the way you expect.

-

When the Devil wants to Dance with you,

You better say never  
Because the Dance with the Devil,

Might last you forever

**Immortal Technique – Dance with the Devil**

-

**Chapter Two**: Dancing with the Devil

James sighed. The aftermath of his constant usage of the Unforgivables in the last battle had left him _needing _them. He had been summoning canaries and had first used the Imperious curse to make them do funny things, like flying into windows at high speeds, then he would use the Cruciatus curse on them until they die. It satisfied his need if only for a few hours, before he had to kill another. It was sickening him.

-

"Avada Kedavra!"

The spell shot from James' wand and smashed into the last Death Eater. This battle was over, but it didn't feel as if it was. And then he knew, it wasn't over.

James ducked just in time, as had his head been where it was, it would currently be lying on the floor. He swore, before shouting to the rest of the Auror's to take cover. This was a very wise move, because seconds later, a volley of dark curses, hexes, and spells flew over his head, killing five of the one hundred and fifty Auror's from the Ministry. James looked up and saw a sight to surprise him, a sight immensely shocking and frightening at the same time. What looked like almost five thousand Death Eaters marched over the grassy knolls, werewolves in human form, carrying swords and knives; wizards, ready to send a torrent of curses; the dead leagues of the Inferi; the idiotic but incredibly strong troupe of mountain Trolls; a horde of Giants; the small band of vampires (all heavily shielded by Voldemort himself); and the Dementors. Even though there was only a small group of these, it was terrifying to think that the small groups of dementors could be persuaded to join _him_.

And then there he was. Voldemort. He was in this battle.

James quickly took out his communication sphere and tapped it with his wand and shouted down the end of it.

"Voldemort is here!" He shouted into it. "He's here in battle! We need more Aurors! Send for help from the other Ministries! He's got Trolls, Vampires, Werewolves, Giants, Death Eaters, Inferi and DEMENTORS! I REPEAT, SEND FOR HELP!"

There was a gasp on the other end of the sphere as he said 'Dementors'. It was common knowledge that Dementors were the foulest of creatures know to grace this green earth. They fed on positive emotions, sucking out every feeling of Happiness you have, until there was nothing but the feeling of terror, pain, suffering, loss, left in you. That was how the prisoners of Azkaban went mad. Relieving every worst feeling every day, for the rest of your life _would_ be maddening.

There was a high pitched cackling and then the sound of a thousand curses being sent. James shouted to the rest of the Aurors who had stood back up to get back down, but it was too late. Now, already half the division of Aurors.

Seventy Auror's against an army of the dark, five thousand strong. This was no battle, it was a massacre. If they didn't receive help soon, they would all be dead meat.

And since the commander of this division had already been killed, it was up to him to take charge. He stood up and shouted for the rest of Aurors to take cover and start sending as many killing curses as possible. He then got three groups of four together and told them to try and start taking out the troll's and giants with killing curses shot at the same time. He then began shooting curses in the direction of Voldemort, hoping that if they could destroy the army's leader, the army could disband.

Even though it was highly unlikely that one of their curses could actually kill him, it was worth a shot.

-

Voldemort turned to his army. "Leave Potter, but destroy the rest."

The army roared and ran towards the Aurors, Giants and Dementors first to try to weaken their defences. Only one remained behind with Voldemort, and his name was Lucius Malfoy.

"Lucius," Voldemort said in a bored voice above the racket of the battle. "Hit Potter with the Ræpio curse. Lets see what he's like without his powers."

"It shall be done, my Lord." Lucius bowed and ran off into the midst of the battle.

Voldemort took what looked like a miniature wizards stave from the pocket of his black silk cloak and enlarged it with a flick of his wrist. He reattached his wand to the holster on his right arm and began a complex pattern with the stave, leaving striking trails of a dark aura in its wake. The stave its self was beautiful as well. A shaft of black marble with flecks of white donning it. At the end of the stave, was a deep, blood red ruby, sitting atop of it.

"Arx Absentis." Voldemort repeated over and over again, each time he repeated it, the stave fell in a different direction.

"Consumo!" With the last word said, the stave fell once more and a spider's web-like cage fell around the battle field, in a dome like shape. Voldemort smirked – that particular ward would stop everyone from leaving, except those with the Dark Mark, and would keep everything else out. It also prevented Apparation and Portkeying.

Lucius dodged in and out of the battle, and began towards Potter, motioning for a Death Eater to follow him. Lucius turned to the Death Eater. "Make sure Potter cant see me."

The Death Eater nodded, and stalked off towards James, who was at the moment, helping a group of Aurors defend themselves while trying to take down a Giant. The Death Eater stepped forwards and shouted at James, causing him to spin around, looking for who called his name. The Death Eater saw Lucius march behind James and smirked, before sending a few curses at James' feet to try and get him to move slightly to the left, and in position for the spell Lucius was about to fire. And, as predicted, James did so, and sent a killing curse towards the unknown Death Eater, hitting him straight on.

Lucius threw the curse from his wand straight at James. The curse crackled as it flew through the air towards James, purple in colour, radiating dark magic. The curse hit James square in the back, causing him to collapse in pain as the curse washed over him, constricting his movement, pilfering his power and using it to strengthen itself. The curse stopped and Voldemort stepped forwards, dismissing Lucius into the battle.

"Ah, James. How have you been?" Voldemort asked, in a sickly sweet voice. "And how is the little munchkin? Harry… am I right?"

James tried to look up at Voldemort, but was unable as he was currently suspended in the air with his head stuck facing down, while moving away from the battle. The spell was lifted and James dropped to the floor.

"Do you still have your wand?" Voldemort asked, smirking slightly. James nodded and as soon as he had, shouted the killing curse, only to be shocked to see nothing happened. Voldemort chuckled – he saw that coming a mile away. "Having fun?"

James tried to speak, but was only able to choke out a few words. "What happened?"

"Oh, nothing really, Lucius just stole your powers, he will be punished for that accordingly," Voldemort drawled. "But I can give them back… for a price."

"I'd rather die than help you." James spat.

"Yes, I thought as much. Well, that _can_ be arranged. But, no, I do not wish to kill you, but train you. A little birdie tells me you've got hooked on the Dark Arts - mainly the Unforgivables, but the Dark Arts nevertheless. I can tell that you have a vast amount of power, and I can help you harness it. Join me, James. I can help you." Voldemort turned and began to walk back towards the battle, as Aurors from other countries had just broke through the wards with help from Dumbledore. "We shall meet again, James." He looked over his shoulder and said one final thing. "And I know about Harry."

-

The Second Chapter done! Whoot!


	3. Chapter 3

**The Eyes of Slytherin.**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything except the plot. So don't sue me. All Harry Potter™ characters and settings are the sole intellectual property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros. and various others who all aren't connected to me in any way. No money is being made with this fan fiction and no copyright infringement is intended.

**Summary:** Harry James Potter was not the only one with Avada Kedavra eyes. The Eyes of Death. The Eyes of Slytherin. A Dark Potter fic, but not in the way you expect.

-

**Chapter Three**: How To Save A Life

A Healer walked out from the privet room James Potter lay in complete comatose, with a solemn expression grazing her face and walked over to the trio of sad faces. The Healer sighed as she stared at the two-month old baby boy in the arms of a Lily Potter – this was going to be hard.

"I'm really sorry Mrs Potter, but your husband is showing no improvement. He was hit with a very dark curse, the Ræpio curse. It strips the victim of their magic in a most excruciating way, almost as bad as the Cruciatus curse, maybe worse depending on the caster. It has left him with very little, almost completely depleted magical stores as well as leaving his body unwilling to any charms or potions we try to use. His body isn't able to sustain itself until his magic replenishes itself. I really am very sorry, but unless Mr Potter gets a magical transfusion, he won't make it through the night."

Lily, who had been looking at the floor intently during this conversation, looked up at the Healer, a sliver of hope in her eyes. "I'll do it."

The Healer shook her head. "I'm sorry, but only a extremely powerful wizard would be able to do it. It would kill the average wizard as to give your magic to someone is a very painful and dangerous thing to do. Magic is linked to your life source. In addition to this, the amount of magic needed for Mr Potter is so great that there is no way anyone could give that much. Lastly, if someone could afford to take a chance to do the transfer, then they would have to be either a blood relative or a bonded. Only a blood relative or bonded would be able to donate their magic, as both the magical cores have to be very similar before this would work. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it."

Lily broke down and began to cry into Remus' arms as Sirius took hold of baby Harry to stop him crying from all the sounds of crying and sadness. Sirius and Remus both swallowed their tears before attempting to comfort the distraught woman.

The three adults with Harry in their arms, walked slowly over to the room where James was. They silently went inside to be with him. He was laying peacefully on the bed, the only thing to show that he was sick was the dark circles under his eyes and the cold sweat marking his face. Lily sat down in the chair beside his bed and cried onto his chest. As they were grieving for the man they were about to lose, little did they know that their troubles were only going to increase.

-

Voldemort sat in his throne idly listening to the boring, pointless and catastrophic drabble of Lucius Malfoy. He was supposed to be a loyal and worthy Death Eater, but it seemed that he was no better than the new recruits. No, wait, even _they_ were better than him. Lucius had no class. He was worthless. Well, maybe not _worthless_. The only thing Voldemort needed him for was his money. After all, an army needed funding.

"Lucius," Drawled Voldemort.

"Yes, my Lord?" asked Lucius, shivering slightly from Voldemort's tone of voice. It was icy and that always meant trouble.

"Why do you persist to fail me?"

"I-I don't know what you mean, my Lord."

"_Crucio_." Lucius fell onto the floor, and screamed with agony. The fool was annoying him and he wasn't even _trying_ to cause pain. "You know what I mean. Now, leave my sight before I decide to kill you."

Lucius' eyes went wide and he stuttered his apologies and ran from the room. Voldemort chuckled and called for Bellatrix – his _worthy_ servant.

"You summoned me, my Lord?" Asked Bellatrix as she bowed deeply in front of him.

"Yes, yes I did." He stood from his throne and told the two guards standing at the door to leave. They bowed and did exactly that. "Bella, I want you to accompany me tonight. A scout of sorts as I will… 'gone', lets say, for a few moments. "

Bellatrix bowed deeply once more. "I would be honoured, my Lord."

"Excellent. I shall meet you in the entrance at precisely Midnight."

Voldemort left and stalked down the stairs to the dungeons, smirking. He loved All Hallows Eve.

Voldemort entered his own private potions lab and took six vials down from a shelf with a flick of his wrist. He also gathered a Ritual knife, made of silver, carved with the ruins he created when he performed his first ritual and a portion of Re'em flesh to counteract the taste of the potion he had been brewing for the past three months. The potion was James Potter's choice to live or die. The potion was going to make James Potter forever his. It was going to make him his heir, merging the Slytherin and Gryffindor bloodlines into one boy. The three months old, Harry James Potter would become the most powerful wizard alive if this succeeded. And he was also the Prophesized Child, and having him on the Dark side would be anything but disastrous.

Bonding himself to James Potter would alter his genetic system, merging the bloodlines into one, and by doing that, he was changing the child's system as well. Potter's magic would change, and at the same time, change his son's magic as well.

Checking the Grandfather Clock in the corner of the room, Voldemort realised it was time to add the final ingredient – A pint of his blood. Voldemort took the knife and traced the knife down a vein, letting the crimson liquid ooze out and spill into the cauldron. Voldemort smirked. He loved blood. The colour. The smell. The taste. Sometimes he thought he might be a vampire, if it wasn't for the fact that he didn't bite people for it.

The potion turned a dark green, before changing into its final colour of deep red. Voldemort waved his wand over the cauldron to stop any of the potion from escaping before shrinking it and placing it within his robes. He then did the same with the knife and vials before setting off towards the main entrance, where he found Bellatrix waiting for him. The clock struck midnight and Voldemort apparated them away.

-

Lily sat in the chair next to James's bed asleep, her head resting on his chest, her face tear stained. Baby Harry lay awake, staring at the ceiling, his emerald eyes deep in concentration. Even though he was just a few months old, he could pick up things really quickly. He knew something bad has happened.

A flicker of light caught Harry's attention and looked at the doorway to see two figures enclosed in shadow. One was slightly taller than the other and had a hood up. The smaller had long hair and you could see that she was a woman - a very curvaceous woman at that. The taller, a man, had piercing red eyes, glinting from under the hood. There was a soft cackle from the man and they both moved forwards towards the bed. The man took out a stick and aimed it at Lily, sending a jet of red light into her back. They were right over James's bed now, the man staring menacingly at Harry, as if waiting for something to happen. He finally turned to the woman and began to speak.

"Bella" He hissed "Make sure nobody comes. If you hear anybody approaching, stun them only. We do not want our presence to be known here. If they see you, obliviate them and send them back to where they were coming from. In no circumstances are you meant to wake me."

"As you wish, my Lord." Bellatrix turned to begin her duty. She would not fail her lord.

Voldemort turned to James before placing numbing charm over him and taking a pint of his blood. The baby looked at the Dark Lord with curiosity in his piercing green eyes. They were the colour of Death, and it freaked Voldemort out. This boy was going to be the death of him – literally – but until that day, he was invincible – he needed to do this. He let the blood trickle into one of the empty vials. Voldemort then took out the cauldron and added the elder Potter's blood sample to the mixture, changing it to a deeper than it was already red. The Dark Lord transfigured the two vials into goblets and filled them to the top, before placing both of them on the bedside table next to James.

Voldemort then prepared himself and forcefully opened James's eyes for a moment before diving into his mind. What Voldemort was doing was a type of possession merged with a branch of Legillimency to go into someone's mind and talk to their mind.

He looked around for a moment before finding the form of James. The Dark Lord approached James and conjured two comfy-looking arm chairs for them to sit on. He motioned for the younger man to sit and took a seat himself. James motioned for Voldemort to speak first.

"Seven days ago I gave you an offer. I trust that, with all the free time you have had, you've been thinking about it."

James sighed, but nodded nevertheless.

"And? What is your answer?"

"I… N… Yes… I'll join you…" Answered James, if a bit reluctantly. It seemed like the only way. He was saving his family from a life of war. "Only if you promise me that my family will be safe and my magic restored." James's mental form was on the brink of tears, but held them in. He didn't want to join the Dark Lord, but it was the only way.

Voldemort nodded. "You drive a hard bargain, James, but I will agree to that…"

"Swear it." James interrupted. "Swear it on your magic."

"Very well. I, Lord Voldemort, Do Hereby Swear on my Magic, That I will keep my end of the Arrangement. Do we have an agreement?"

James sighed and nodded once more.

"Good. Your magic shall return to you within the hour, but it will be weak from lack of use. Train. Use your magic constantly until you get it back to its full power. I shall see you in Diagon Ally exactly four weeks from now to take you for your Mark. Do not fail me, James, it could be disastrous. But before I leave, I must tell you that you will be taking a potion to allow the magical transfusion."

James nodded. He'd expected something like that, though he did not have an extensive knowledge of potions.

The Dark Lord pulled out of James's mind and sighed – that took a lot out of him. Luckily, he always kept a Pepper-Up potion with him for things that tired him magically. Taking a quick swig of the potion, he got to work. Grabbing the first of the goblets, he opened James's mouth and tipped it down, stroking his throat to make the concoction flow and set to work.

The body of the young man in front of him began to spasm and shudder. It was a painful process, but it had to happen. Merging the Gryffindor and Slytherin bloodlines would be a huge feat and having the 'Chosen One' on one's side could only mean good things. He was making the Light's saviour to be, the Dark's most powerful ally. This _needed _to happen. The outcome of the war depended on this moment. Voldemort knew that James would become more drawn to the Dark side with time - he just needed to make sure that James kept using the Unforgivables.

Voldemort drank the other goblet of the potion and also began spasming. The Dark Lord had to bite his tongue to stop himself from screaming, the pain was that intense. It was worse than the Cruciatus Curse, much worse, which Voldemort had not felt since the days he was apprenticed under Grindelwald.

Keeping in the scream, Voldemort took his wand and waved it above James's head, creating a scroll above. He grabbed hold of the scroll and watched as names began writing themselves. The aged wizard saw James's name second from the bottom of the sheet and below him was Harry. Voldemort's eyes flicked along the line connecting James to Lily, and then to the on that connected him to his parents. It was then that Voldemort caught a line being drawn and a third name being written next the parents of this particular Potter. Voldemort smiled when he read the name.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Voldemort quickly added the third sample of blood to the caldron and poured a third goblet full, before tipping the contents into the baby's mouth, bit by bit until it was completely gone. Harry squirmed a bit before closing his eyes and falling asleep. The Dark Lord quickly did the same charm over Harry and smirked again. A second line began to draw itself in a deep red line, instead of the regular gold for blood and silver for marriage, towards, once again, Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Voldemort smirked. It was done. Now for the final procedure. Voldemort began to draw runes on James's torso and head with his wand and began chanting in an old and forgotten tongue. The runes began to change from the black it was drawn in, to a baby blue, to a startling green, and finally resting on a blood red and rise off of James's body as the unconscious Auror rose a few feet in the air. The runes started to orbit James, seemingly going in a random way, but to Voldemort, they were writing words in the air. Magic filled the air around them, almost suffocating them as Voldemort took hold of the knife and drew a shallow pentagram on the palm of James's left hand, only light enough to collect a small amount of blood. Voldemort then did the same to his right hand and clasped both his hand and James's together.

The chanting ceased, only to be replaced by a single line. "Blóð til Blóð, Sál til Sál , ÉG gefa þú minn kjarni , svo þessi þinn geta vera skila aftur!"

The runes launched towards James and began to burn themselves into his untarnished flesh, leaving behind a small blister which burnt itself away instantly. The Auror captain was lain back down on his back and the most feared Dark Lord the world had ever saw walked over to Bellatrix, who was currently sitting in the corner of the hospital, her fierce, pit less black eyes locked onto Voldemort as he came closer. He nodded and put his hand on Bella's shoulder, disapparating back to his Keep.

-

End of Chapter Three.


End file.
